Atlee’s manner at dinner was unusually cold and silent. He habitually made the chief efforts of conversation, now he spoke little and seldom. When Walpole talked, it was in that careless discursive way it was his wont to discuss matters with a familiar. He often put questions, and as often went on without waiting for the answers.
As they sat over the dessert and were alone, he adverted to the other’s mission, throwing out little hints, and cautions as to manner, which Atlee listened to in perfect silence, and without the slightest sign that could indicate the feeling they produced.
‘You are going into a new country, Atlee,’ said he at last, ‘and I am sure you will not be sorry to learn something of the geography.’
‘Though it may mar a little of the adventure,’ said the other, smiling.
‘Ah, that’s exactly what I want to warn you against. With us in England, there are none of those social vicissitudes you are used to here. The game of life is played gravely, quietly, and calmly. There are no brilliant successes of bold talkers, no _coups de théâtre_ of amusing _raconteurs_: no one tries to push himself into any position of eminence.’
A half-movement of impatience, as Atlee pushed his wine-glass before him, arrested the speaker.
‘I perceive,’ said he stiffly, ‘you regard my counsels as unnecessary.’
‘Not that, sir, so much as hopeless,’ rejoined the other coldly.
‘His Excellency will ask you, probably, some questions about this country: let me warn you not to give him Irish answers.’
‘I mean, don’t deal in any exaggerations, avoid extravagance, and never be slapdash.’
Without deigning reply to this, Walpole went on--
‘Of course you have your remedy for all the evils of Ireland. I never met an Irishman who had not. But I beg you spare his lordship your theory, whatever it is, and simply answer the questions he will ask you.’
‘Above all things, let me warn you against a favourite blunder of your countrymen. Don’t endeavour to explain peculiarities of action in this country by singularities of race or origin; don’t try to make out that there are special points of view held that are unknown on the other side of the Channel, or that there are other differences between the two peoples, except such as more rags and greater wretchedness produce. We have got over that very venerable and time-honoured blunder, and do not endeavour to revive it.’